


Fire And Oxygen: Nothing Else Matters

by BrightLotusMoon



Series: Mikey The Lifegiver [9]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2003), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012)
Genre: Autistic Mikey, Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Bonding, Brothers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Epilepsy, Family Drama, Family Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Guilt, Headaches & Migraines, Mikey Is An Iron Woobie, Mikey Loves Easily, Protective Siblings, Psionics, Psychic Abilities, Psychic Bond, Raph Is A Jerk Sometimes, Seizures, Splinter Is Keeping Secrets, Team as Family, Teenage Boys Can Be Jerks, Telekinesis, Telepathy, disabled mikey, empath mikey, psionic mikey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 11:32:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10920951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrightLotusMoon/pseuds/BrightLotusMoon
Summary: Mikey is still struggling to handle and control his newfound psionic powers, whose side effects are deeply unpleasant. At the same time, Raph is struggling to handle and control his confused emotional outbursts at all the sudden changes happening within the family.





	Fire And Oxygen: Nothing Else Matters

**Author's Note:**

> (This occurs a short time after the events of "Water And Oxygen: Acuity".  
> There are a hundred little moments between each of the "Mikey The Lifegiver" stories that altered how the clan worked and lived together, and this came to mind easily.  
> Naturally all disabilities are my own.)

 

* * *

 

After they figured out it was truly ADHD-I and Major Depression, after the traumatic brain injury that revealed epilepsy and ultimately the Utrom manipulated, mutagen enhanced psionics that Mikey was actively struggling with, things started going back to normal.

And the brothers, being young and impetuous and tired nearly all the time, being a young family with all the bits that happen with families, kept slipping far back, especially Raph, because the random emotional rages never stopped anyway, not until much much later.

They had returned home from patrol exhausted and simmering because Mikey’s exuberance had given them away and they just wanted to sink into the pit and play video games and just be glad they stopped the criminals at all.

And this time when Raph hit Mikey across the back of the head and snarled at him and called him useless, Mikey waited until no one was looking, and bolted at top speed to his room, hurtling at his bed with gymnastic force. He curled up like a baby armadillo, sobbing viciously into his pillow, allowed his body to shake, let the feelings of hopelessness take him. And he felt that now familiar dreaded shiver grab the back of his skull and he didn't fight it, he felt the seizure wash over him like a tsunami, felt his whole mind get swept up in a shrieking foggy tide, felt every muscle in his body twitch as he rocked back and forth, melting, burning, unable to even close his mouth, tears like burning rivers over his cheeks.

There was no such thing as time. He choked and gasped through the flooding electric storm in his brain, pummeled and peeled apart by flickering shadows and too bright starlight behind his eyes. It wasn’t until he registered a hand on his upper arm that he realized he was coming out of it.

“Mikey,” a hoarse, completely horrified voice whispered. He couldn’t place it. Everything swirled and swam until he peeled open his eyes, blurred by tears. He slowly slowly stretched out, body sore and on fire, and rolled onto his back, and he blinked.

“Mikey, oh god, I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry, oh my god, I should get Sensei…”

He blinked. “No,” and his voice was raw and tiny and fucking pathetic, he was so fucking pathetic, but that didn’t matter, his brother looked so so terrified and so desperately sorry, and he looked like he needed a patented Mikey hug. Mikey felt a giant wave of love crash over him. “Raph, no, stay. Stay please, need you.”

Wide bright green eyes, so wide he could see the sclera, stared at him in pure shock. Mikey could sense the roiling emotions like a force of nature against his skin, in his own mind; he sensed the way Raphael was cycling through exhaustion, confusion, fear, worry, guilt stretching for eternity, realization that he couldn’t just shrug and mumble and brush it off, realization that there were too many consequences and now they might even kill his baby brother, and there was no possible way he could possibly ever apologize enough-

Ignoring the ache and fatigue and the stabbing headache that was like a wildfire, Mike wriggled to sit up and reached out his arms. “Raph, you silly turtle, just hug me. Please?”

And that confused look softened even as the fear and horror stayed, and Mikey was just grateful that his brother smelled and felt the same, familiar pulse of muscles wrapping him up tight. He rested his cheek on Raph’s broad shoulder. “Just…just hug me. We’ll get Daddy later.”

  
He needed a hug. Raphie needed a hug. This was how they dealt with his rages. Always had, Mikey remembered being toddlers and Raph yowling in angry frustration at whatever, Mikey rolling over and rolling himself on top of him, holding on tight, burrowing in deep, nuzzling Raph’s neck and breathing in the emotions so big they could fill the world, and Raph relaxing in surprise and wrapping his baby arms around Mikey’s much smaller body, making cooing sounds that translated into _never let you go, always protect you, love you forever,_ Mikey echoing them, inscribed in his bones, _love love love don’t hurt it’s okay it’s okay it’s okay, I’m here I’m here I’m here._

Screw seizures, screw migraines, screw being bombarded by spiritual psychic sensitive feelings all the time. His big brother needed a hug. That was all that mattered.

“I’m here,” he murmured with waning strength. “It’s okay.” His head was hurting so fucking bad and he was still shaking. “There’s nothing to forgive.” He breathed in shallow breaths. “I love you.”

Mikey didn’t remember passing out, but when he opened his eyes again, his head was in Master Splinter’s lap and his brothers were kneeling around him, crying.

  
It didn’t matter. He had to keep shining for them.

* * *

Raphael punched the training dummy until he was numb, and he only felt better when his hands were scraped and bleeding. The pain, sharp and throbbing, was a  _reminder_ and it was  _important_ to hurt so he knew how  _alive_ he was. Also that he was a fucking idiot and that their lives had changed and he wasn't making it any easier, damn it.

Donnie and April kept looking up shit like Borderline Personality Disorder and Impulse Aggression and whatever, not to try to diagnose him, just to understand  _why_ and  _how._ Raph brushed it off and let them think what they wanted. He was young. He was a mutant. He was angry. He was emotional. That was it.

And Leo would meditate with him, and Leo would fight with him,  _fight_ with him tooth and claw, and that usually made it better, made it fade away, but it still was never quite enough.

And then Mikey would smile at him, laugh at him, provoke him to chase and growl and release, and Mikey would hug him, Mikey would  _hug_ him...and it would completely drain him, it would be fucking gone, in a flash, in that frozen moment where his baby brother's arms were around him, head pressed against his own, body pushed against his so tightly it was like a weighted blanket of brother. _It's okay, Raph. It's gonna be fine. I'm here. You're all right. You're fine._

And still, and _still,_ he snapped at him, yelled at him, smacked him in the head, insulted him, over and over.

_It's what brothers do, the little ones are annoying, the strong ones tease them._

He was pretty sure Mikey actually hated getting smacked. _Hated_ it. Kept quiet because what was the point, Raph would just do it again. So would Leo, for that matter. So would Donnie. _Mikey, quit messing around, Mikey, get out of my lab, Mikey, quit screwing up, Mikey, be quiet, Mikey, focus on the mission, Mikey, don't touch that, Mikey, get back here, Mikey, what the heck are you doing..._

Don and Splinter kept saying that Mikey had an unusually wired brain, that his mind didn't process the world the way others did. Raph figured that was obvious when the psionics broke through, but even way before that, since they were kids, Mikey had been different.

They had been six years old. Raph had been walking past the dojo when Mikey's voice came through, loud and petulant: "It hurts and it's scary, Daddy, I mean, Sensei. I don't think I want it. Can't you just make it go away?"

And Raph had froze in his tracks, concern crashing over him.

"Oh, my little one, I cannot. It is part of you, deep inside your spirit." Splinter had sounded sad, and patient, and kind, and determined. "And we shall have to tell your brothers one day. They will begin to suspect."

"But I don't want to tell them! Leo works so hard, and if he finds out that I can do it easier than him he'll be sad! And Donnie probably will laugh, and Raph will probably tell me to stop being stupid."

Puzzled, Raph had pressed against the wall next to the dojo.

"Your brothers love you and adore you, Michelangelo. And I promise to make sure they will not laugh or feel upset or mock you. This is a very unique and extraordinary gift. Even I am not as powerful."

There was a silence.

"Really? B-but you're a ninja  _master!_ "

A chuckle. "Indeed. But I do not have the raw talent and potential you possess. I worked very long and very hard to hone my spiritual and mystic skills. Most trained ninja spent many, many years perfecting their psychic abilities. Very few have them naturally."

"Like...like me?"

"Yes. Like you. You are rare, my Michelangelo. Your special dreams, your strong feelings and the images you see, your ability to read emotions and auras, are uncanny and very uncommon. When you are much older, perhaps we can train you properly. But you are far too young and undisciplined."

"Yeah, Donnie uses that big word. It means I don't focus enough and I don't do hard work enough."

"You will learn to, in time, my son. But I have an idea. Perhaps we can meditate together and build a wall, and a room, of sorts. We can put your psychic abilities away in your mind until you are ready to use them fully. How does that sound?"

"Like fun! It's like building a fort, right, Sensei?"

"Yes, a little. This will be a fortress, a safe place to store your skills, to lock them away. But you will always have the key."

"I just won't have to use it til I'm all grown up and ready!"

"That is correct!"

Raph could almost  _hear_ the wide grin on his little brother's face. "I wanna do it!"

"Very well, Michelangelo. Give me your hands again. We shall meditate, and you shall create a wall, a fortified room, and a key."

Raphael heard Donatello shuffling around the huge room that was slowly becoming his science lab, and scurried away, his mind whirling with the bizarre realization that his goofy, weird little brother was actually  _psychic._

By the time he reached the kitchen and Leo yelled at him about a broken bowl, Raph had forgotten what he had overheard.

* * *

 

And now, ten years later, Raph sat on his bed in the dark and sank his head in his hands. Mikey had initially told them all that dealing with Dark April and the Aeon crystal had "jumpstarted" his powers. But...no. What if the crystal had merely broken the locks, collapsed the wall, opened the room to release all that hidden power, growing stronger, after a full decade? Mikey was surpassing April, after all. Utrom Agent Bishop had been firm about the Utrom/Kraang mutagen changing Mikey specifically so he was part of that two percent of mutants who became psionic. But Raph knew better. He knew better now.

He wondered if he should confront Master Splinter.

He wondered if his father remembered.

He wondered if  _Mikey_ remembered.

Did it matter? They were happy. Mikey was...doing all right. For every seizure and migraine and bout of fatigue, he was bubbly and bouncy and eager. Between April, Leo, and Splinter, his mental training was improving in leaps. His empathic power often led to him feeling too  _much_ emotion too _fast_ , leading to those crying jags, the running off, the moments of worry that his seizure threshold had been lowered.

Raph wasn't helping.

"Okay, yeah," he whispered to his hands. "I gotta get myself under control. It matters. It really matters, okay?"

But really the only way he could get control was through  _Mikey._

And Mikey was in the infirmary being watched over by a paranoid Donatello, who was probably still miffed at Raph for scolding Mikey in the first place.

It really hadn't been so bad. They had been scoping out a drug run between two gangs, and Mikey had leaned forward, whispering, and his arm had bumped a crate, and the crate had tumbled, so loud in the silent dark, and several criminals had panicked, scattering, while the rest had trained eyes and weapons on the shadows.

It could have happened to any of them. Really. Mikey was...excitable. Unpredictable. A wild card. He couldn't help himself. But their frustration and exasperation had grabbed them all by the throats, forcing them to launch into early battle, quick and simple, no injuries. The trip home had been quiet, with Mikey trailing behind, head down. Raph had been clenching and unclenching his fists and breathing harshly.

And then, heading to the pit, Mikey had squeaked out an apology, and Raph, who could only see a red fog, had whirled around and smacked him hard, "Can you just not be useless for one mission? Why do you have to screw things up for us? That's not what ninjas do, Mikey!" And before the fog had cleared he had registered Mikey making a strangled hiccup, his small lithe body suddenly moving with impossible speed, away, away to the bedrooms, and there was the slamming of a door.

Leo had sighed. "It happens, okay? No need to dwell on it. Everyone's all right, that's what matters."

Don had cracked a smile. "I just keep adjusting for the variable of Mikey inevitably doing something foolhardy. It's not his fault, he's just louder than we are."

And the fog still hadn't lifted as Raph had turned, slowly slowly, to the bedrooms and walked slowly, slowly to his little brother's door, and the fog had lifted quicker than anything when he had heard the muffled sobs within. And he had opened the door to see his baby brother curled up in a seizure, his breaths coming out as wet chokes, and Raph's mind had keened in terror before he had launched himself at the bed.

And then...and then Mikey had  _hugged_ him. Mikey had  _hugged_ him and forgave him and told _Raph_  to not worry.

Going unconscious probably had not been part of that. And Raph had caught him, brought him to the floor, screamed for Sensei and Donnie. Tears streaming down his face, seeing his family burst in, hearing Leo start crying, watching Sensei lift Mikey into his lap and hum, seeing Donnie with tears in his eyes running his hands over Mikey's arms and face and torso, checking his vitals, mumbling about getting him to the infirmary.

Raphael slammed his fists against the bed and got up, heading out toward the lab with the connected infirmary. There, in the corner set up for medical needs, the found hospital bed, the machines, Don and Leo sitting in stools and talking softly. Mikey was on the bed, sleeping hard, the bed's head raised, pillows fluffed, and he looked sunken and gray and fragile. It had been forty minutes since Mikey had lost consciousness.

"How...how is he?" Raph coughed.

His brothers turned, both smiling gently at him.

"He'll wake up soon," Don said. "Raph, you know it's not your fault."

With a heavy growling sigh, Raph trudged over to stand next to Leo. "I insulted him. I hit him. I  _told_ myself I'd never do that again."

"Even if you hadn't," Leo said, "Mikey was tired from the fight, and probably feeling guilty, even though none of us blamed him. His threshold was low. He got worked up."

Raph folded his arms, pouting, watching Mikey's face. Not a twitch. He snarled quietly. "Guess so."

"He just needs lots of rest," Don said.

Raph nodded curtly, then softened and took the empty stool. That old old memory of that conversation in the dojo tugged at him. He said nothing. It wasn't his story to tell. But he wanted to run to Splinter and ask him to do a meditation on Mikey, to fortify him again, to make him stronger against his own brain. He wasn't even sure that was possible. He just wanted his brother to be all right, that was all that mattered.

He saw Mikey's lips move and stiffened, already standing up.

"Raph?" Don asked.

"...m'srry, didn't mean to be loud..."

"Mikey," Donnie said gently, leaning over him. "It's okay. You're all right. Can you hear me?"

Mikey's eyes opened and he grunted. "Yeah. I seized."

"You did," Don said. "Ready for those neurological tests?"

Mike smiled weakly. "Bring it on."

Raphael let out a breath. He would get better with himself, he swore it. Mikey needed him. He needed Mikey. They had things to do together. Fighting didn't matter. Love did.

* * *

  
So close no matter how far  
Couldn’t be much more from the heart  
Forever trusting who we are  
And nothing else matters

Never opened myself this way  
Life is ours, we live it our way  
All these words I don’t just say  
And nothing else matters

Trust I seek and I find in you  
Every day for us something new  
Open mind for a different view  
And nothing else matters

Never cared for what they do  
Never cared for what they know  
But I know

-Metallica, "Nothing Else Matters"

 


End file.
